An Invasion
The changes which were taking place this term at Silverside certainly
marked a new era in its traditions. Up till now it had been essentially
a boarding school. There had, indeed, been day girls, who had shared the
classes and some of the games, but they were in the minority, both in
numbers and in influence. They had had no part in the various guilds and
societies, and had been made by the boarders to feel that they were
inferior beings who did not count. The mistresses, themselves resident,
had been accustomed to view the boarders as the more important factors,
and arranged everything to suit their convenience. It had been the
unwritten code of the school that to be a boarder meant to procure
preferential treatment.
Miss Thompson, however, was a level-headed woman, who marched with the
times. When the opportunity arose of acquiring the connection of The
Hawthorns, the large day school at the other side of the town, she
closed with the bargain, and decided upon an entire change of tactics.
Henceforward Silverside was to be run as _the_ girls' day school of
Harlingden. The house was large, its accommodation had hitherto exceeded
the needs of the pupils, there was plenty of room for added numbers, and
even in war-time it would be possible to run up a corrugated iron or
portable wooden building to serve as lecture hall and gymnasium. The big
garden already contained several tennis courts, and there was a field
close at hand which might be rented for hockey. Altogether, Miss
Thompson congratulated herself that she had performed a most excellent
stroke of business, and she looked forward to establishing a very
flourishing educational centre, and to laying by a comfortable provision
upon which she might retire when the burden of teaching grew too heavy
for her to bear.
Certainly, Silverside was most excellently situated for the purpose she
had in view. The property had been bought some years before the town of
Harlingden had expanded, and while land was still cheap. The house stood
in its own beautiful grounds, on the top of a hill commanding a fine
view over the estuary. It was breezy and healthy, with large lofty
rooms, big windows, and ample accommodation in the way of side doors and
bathrooms: just sufficiently in the country to allow of walks through
fields and woods, yet near enough to the town to permit most girls to
return home for their mid-day dinners. As a day school, it was far more
conveniently situated than The Hawthorns. Harlingden, formerly a
moderate-sized and not particularly important town, had since the
outbreak of the war been turned into a great munition centre; the
Government, attracted by the advantages of the estuary, had established
large permanent works there, together with a shipbuilding industry. In a
few short years the population had doubled. Fresh suburbs sprang up like
mushrooms. In the Silverside district this was particularly noticeable,
for where formerly there had been quite a rural walk between hedges,
leading to the town, there now stood rows of neat villas with stuccoed
fronts and balconies, and conspicuously new gardens.
The boarders at Silverside, who preferred country to town, greatly
deplored this suburban growth. They had always begged to take their
walks in an opposite direction, and had ignored Harlingden and its
industries as persistently as possible. The advent of about fifty day
girls into Silverside they regarded as neither more nor less than an
alien invasion. They sat together in a tight clump when school opened at
nine o'clock on Wednesday morning. Until the new gymnasium could be
erected, it was difficult to find a room large enough to accommodate
everybody. The old drawing-room had been emptied of furniture and fitted
with forms, and here, by sitting very close, the girls managed to cram
themselves in for the opening ceremony. Miss Thompson, elated at heart,
but more stately and dignified than ever in manner, addressed her pupils
in a short speech.
"As Silverside is entering on a new chapter of its career," she began,
"I should like to put before you all, as briefly as possible, what I
consider to be the ideals of the school. Those who have been here some
years already know our traditions, but it will do them no harm to hear
them again, and those of you who are new will, I hope, understand, and
be prepared to accept them with equal readiness.
"First of all, we stand for Work. We are living in very strenuous times,
and it is the duty of all who love their country to do their best. Every
faithful struggle with your lessons here makes you more fit to help your
country by and by. If you have no ambition for yourselves, remember that
you are part of a great nation, and as such you must not slack, but do
your bit to raise the general standard of education. You'll find there's
a joy and a satisfaction in mastering rules of arithmetic or irregular
verbs, when you feel that you are doing it not only for yourselves but
for the general good. Then there are certain other things for which
Silverside has always stood--truth and straightforward dealings, and a
spirit of unity and of loyalty to the school. We have striven to
establish a high tone here, and at all costs let us preserve it.
"This term there is a very large proportion of new girls, and hence a
big opportunity for everybody. There will be inevitable changes, and
much pioneer work to be done, and each girl may find a chance of taking
a share in consolidating our traditions. I trust that old and new will
join hands and do their utmost to work together harmoniously for the
good of the school, and the influence which, through you, it may
exercise on the community later on."
At the end of Miss Thompson's speech the girls separated, and went to
their class-rooms. At the eleven o'clock "break" they poured into the
garden. They stood about in little groups, eating packets of lunch, and
talking. Adah Gartley, Isobel Norris, and Joyce Edwards, the three
eldest boarders, kept together. To them presently advanced two of the
invaders, a ruddy-haired girl of perhaps seventeen, and a stout,
dark-eyed girl a trifle younger.
"Our names are Annie Broadside and Gladys Wilks," began
she-of-the-chestnut-locks. "If we'd stayed on at The Hawthorns, one or
other of us would have been head this term. You look about the oldest of
the old lot here, so perhaps you'll tell us how this school's managed.
Do you have monitresses, or prefects, or what? Miss Thompson didn't
mention a word about that in her speech. We'd like to know."
Adah glanced at her rather superciliously.
"We've never had anything of the sort here," she replied.
Annie Broadside's eyes grew round with amazement.
"What? No prefects or monitresses? How in the world did you manage,
then?"
"We didn't find them necessary," maintained Adah stiffly.
Gladys Wilks whistled, and looked eloquently at her friend.
"Of course it was a very small school," she remarked, "so I dare say you
somehow muddled on; but _now_--surely there'll have to be something of
the sort instituted?"
"Those juniors will give trouble if there's no one to tackle them,"
added Annie. "Just look at them over there!"
The juveniles in question were certainly behaving with a lack of decorum
entirely foreign to the former atmosphere of Silverside. They were, in
fact, engaged in jumping over Miss Thompson's most cherished flower
beds, with disastrous consequences to the pet geraniums and
calceolarias.
"The little hooligans!" exclaimed Adah, rushing to the rescue of the
unfortunate flowers. "Here, get away, you kiddies! this sort of
performance isn't allowed. Stop, this minute!"
The five long-legged children who were making a display of their jumping
agility called a temporary halt, and stared aggressively at Adah.
"Who says it's not allowed?" enquired a pert ten-year-old, who was
evidently the ringleader.
"_I_ do."
"Are you a teacher?"
"No."
"A prefect or a monitress?"
"No."
"Then, what are you?"
"I'm a boarder," announced Adah with dignity.
The junior sniggered rudely.
"Boarders have no right to interfere with us, that I can see. We'll do
as we like. Come along, girls, follow the leader!" and, turning, she
made a long leap across the bed, landing in the edging of blue lobelias.
Adah stood by, raging and impotent. She would have interfered by force,
but very fortunately at that moment the school bell rang, and the
irrepressible juniors desisted from their occupation and raced one
another to the side door. Adah followed thoughtfully. Her brain was a
whirlpool of new impressions, most of them not at all favourable, and
she had not yet had time to assort them and put them into mental
pigeon-holes. One idea loomed large. Silverside was going to be an
utterly different place from what it had been before. That brief tussle
had revealed much. Hitherto the little girls had been well-behaved
children, rather in awe of their elders, and easily held in check; these
new juniors seemed a different generation, and a very perverse and
untoward one.
Everything, indeed, was changed. Her form room overflowed with
strangers, and there was a new mistress, whose methods were different
from those of Miss Hopkins. Adah, mindful of her position as oldest
pupil, did the honours of the school, showing teacher and girls where
books, exercise paper, and other necessaries were kept, but she
performed this charity more in the spirit of _noblesse oblige_ than with
any goodwill.
When the last of the day girls had taken her departure after four
o'clock, Adah heaved an immense sigh of relief, and sent a scout round
to call a boarders' meeting for 5.15 prompt.
Immediately after tea, therefore, all the resident pupils of Silverside
assembled in the summer-house at the bottom of the garden. They had
chosen that spot because it was secluded, and they were not likely to be
disturbed. Their consultations were to be of a private nature, and they
did not wish any mistress to overhear them. The summer-house was not
very large--much too small, in fact, to contain twenty-four girls--but
some squatted on the steps, and some on the window-sills, and some
overflowed on to the lawn. Adah, seated on the little rustic table,
looked round to see that her full audience was assembled, and opened the
proceedings in a voice that trembled with indignation.
"It seems to me, and I expect to most of you, that matters here have
just about come to a crisis. The school's turned topsy-turvy. It's been
invaded by this horde of day girls, and everything is altogether
different. Now, Silverside has always existed for the boarders. Miss
Thompson has recognized that, and we've had a great many special
privileges. It's _we_ who have set the tone of the school, and made
Silverside what it is. As long as we outnumbered the day girls that was
pretty easy, but, now that this huge flock has trooped in, it may be a
difficult matter to cope with them. We must make up our minds what we
intend to do. Has anybody any suggestion to offer?"
"I thought of writing to my father, and asking him to take me away at
Christmas," propounded Irma, flushing with nervousness at the sound of
her own voice.
Adah gazed at her with an expression of mingled amazement and sorrow.
"Irma Ridley, I shouldn't have expected this from _you_! Leave the
school, indeed! Where's your loyalty? I hope you haven't been spreading
such an abominable notion. No, indeed! We Silversiders mustn't desert
the old ship. We've got to stick to her, and steer her course for her
through very troubled waters. Don't let anyone suggest ratting again."
Irma, covered with confusion, blushed yet more furiously. The sentiment
of the meeting was against her, and she felt that she had blundered
badly. She murmured an incoherent apology, and began nervously tying
knots in her pocket-handkerchief.
"Surely someone has a better suggestion to offer than this?" said Adah,
her clear blue eyes searching the faces of her companions. "Please don't
be afraid of airing your opinions."
"Silverside must stick to its traditions," ventured Joyce Edwards. "We
mustn't let everything be swamped by the invasion."
"Let's make a Boarders' League," proposed Isobel Norris, "and pledge
ourselves to hold together and support one another--a kind of Blood
Brotherhood, you know."
"The very thing!" agreed everybody.
The idea was so manifestly satisfactory that each girl wondered why it
had not occurred to herself to suggest it. To bind themselves in so
close a bond of union seemed picturesque and romantic in the extreme. It
appealed to their imaginations tremendously.
"We shall be fighting for the school colours!" said Adah, with a light
of enthusiasm shining in her blue eyes. "It's _we_, the little band of
old pupils, who are to preserve the ideals of the school. These new
girls must be made to realize that they're at Silverside now, and not at
The Hawthorns."
"I guess we'll rub it into them," murmured Laura Talbot to the
still-confused Irma.
It was a new girl after all, however, who made the really practical
suggestion of the meeting. Avelyn Watson had sat very quietly during the
proceedings, feeling herself in a somewhat awkward position. She had
been a pupil at The Hawthorns for two years, but her mother had never
really liked the school, and had removed her from it the preceding
Christmas. Avelyn had come to Silverside quite ready to embrace its
traditions and to erase The Hawthorns from her memory. To be confronted
with more than fifty of her old schoolfellows, some of whom had to-day
claimed affectionate intimacy with her, had been somewhat of a shock.
She did not quite know where she stood. She was not sure whether the
boarders were disposed to receive her into the bosom of the League, or
if they would regard her as among the aliens. One fact, culled from
former experience, rose to her lips. She was too shy to state it
publicly, but she bent towards Laura Talbot and whispered:
"Tell them, if they want to do anything, they ought to have
prefects--you see, I _know_!"
Laura immediately broached the suggestion as her own, and gained the
whole credit for it. The idea, hinted at by Annie Broadside and Gladys
Wilks in the morning, had been fermenting in Adah's brain all day, and
she grasped at it eagerly.
"It would give us just the authority we want," she agreed. "We'd better
make a deputation and speak to Miss Thompson about it. Who'll go with
me?"
The Principal, busy and burdened with a hundred new cares, sat in her
study that evening answering letters from parents. She pushed away her
papers rather wearily as the deputation, consisting of Adah Gartley,
Isobel Norris, Consie Arkwright, and Joyce Edwards, entered the room
with a kind of bashful assurance. She was tired, but she was always
ready to listen to what her girls had to say. It had been her invariable
rule to meet them half-way. She heard them now patiently, asking many
questions, for they were shy in stating their case, and did not at first
explain their objects lucidly. When at length she had got at the gist of
the matter, she leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment or two
before she replied.
"What you say is very true. The influx of another school into
Silverside may certainly endanger our old traditions. I look to you
boarders, who have been with me for years, to uphold every principle for
which we have hitherto stood. I agree that you might find your task very
difficult unless you were armed with some authority. We have never had
school officers before, but that was because we did not feel them a
necessity. I will try the experiment and see how it answers. You four
are among my oldest pupils. You know what Silverside has stood for in
the past, and you shall help to mould its future. I appoint you
prefects, and give you power to report to me, or to any other mistress,
breaches of discipline which come under your notice, and in certain
cases to take off order marks. Adah, who is the eldest, and was first in
last term's examination list, shall be head girl. I will announce this
at nine o'clock to-morrow. My great object is to amalgamate the two
schools into one as quickly as possible, and I trust that you will not
show any favouritism towards old girls, but will give the new ones equal
justice."
"We'll do our best, Miss Thompson," declared Adah, Isobel, Consie, and
Joyce in an obedient chorus.
And doubtless they really meant to do their best; but schoolgirls are
prejudiced beings, and apt to be conservative to the core. They had
decided beforehand that the former pupils of Silverside, and the
boarders in particular, had the sole prerogative of high ideals,
culture, and gentility, and that such refinements could not, and did
not, exist among those who had come from The Hawthorns. In their minds
the division was as complete as that between the sheep and the goats.
They looked upon the Hawthorners as heathen, and upon themselves in the
light of missionaries. They set to work very patronizingly to make their
influence felt. Now, there is nothing which most people resent so much
as patronage. The Hawthorners had been happy enough in their old school,
and they were keenly insulted at being given to understand that they
were regarded by the Silversiders as inferiors. They held indignation
meetings of their own on the subject.
"Why should those stuck-up things lord it over us?" exploded Annie
Broadside.
"They're not as clever as we are. We beat them easily in class," added
Gladys Wilks.
"I should just think we do. They're simply not in the running at
maths.," declared Gertrude Howells.
"And yet they're prefects, if you please."
"At The Hawthorns prefects were always chosen from those who got the
highest marks in the examinations."
"You were top last term, Annie, and would have been head girl if the
school had gone on."
"You were only two marks behind me, Gladys, and you know Miss Perry
hadn't counted the botany papers. It was really a toss-up between us."
"Well, we're both out of it now."
"Very much so."
"I don't call it fair that these four boarders should have all the
authority."
"It isn't!"
"If they think we're going to knuckle under to them they're very much
mistaken."
"Giving themselves such airs about being old Silversiders, and treating
us like inferiors!"
"Can't we do anything?"
"Let's form an 'Old Hawthorners' Guild', and vow to stick to one
another. There are more of us than of them, and we'll beat them in
lessons and at games, and let them see who's inferior."
"Right you are! You shall be captain, Annie."
"Then you shall be secretary, Gladys."
"I know everybody will be only too delighted to join."
"They will. But don't let those Silversiders know one single word about
it."
"They shan't, indeed!"
"We're here, and the school is as much ours as theirs!"
"Our old set will follow us, and not care a toss about the prefects!"
Adah and her fellow-officers had indeed made a terrible mistake by their
superior and patronizing ways. Instead of welding the school into one,
as Miss Thompson had hoped and intended, they had entirely alienated the
new element and had set up a most unhappy barrier of division.
Silverside resolved itself into two parties, each apparently determined
to misunderstand the other, and obstinately resolute not to mix. Miss
Thompson, anxiously watching the result of her experiment, saw only the
surface of things, for most of the trouble lay below, deeper than the
ken of head mistresses. The teachers were aware of an undercurrent of
discontent, but could not absolutely discover the reason. Only the girls
themselves knew that the school was split into rival factions, between
whom there was going to be war.